


under the stars (is where i wanna be)

by Falling_Leaves_Autumn



Category: Monsta X (Band), No.MERCY (TV)
Genre: Depression, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Introspection, M/M, No Mercy, OOC, References to Depression, Sadness, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Underground Rapper Lee Jooheon, idk what to do, idk what to put for fandom, it's a vent fic, jooheon and gunhee act OOC, lapslock, maybe monsta x - Freeform, not rly no mercy but used the ppl from there, suicidal, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 17:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falling_Leaves_Autumn/pseuds/Falling_Leaves_Autumn
Summary: “you shouldn't smoke,” joo heon mutters. gun hee doesn't focus on what he says, only thinks about the way his voice sounds. his syllables are slow and they match his deep tone.“you're not the judge of that,” he replies back, tugging his black mask back over his mouth, hiding his face under the snapback on his head.joo heon takes a seat in the plastic chair beside his own. “those things kill you.”“isn't that the point? for some of us, everything we love kills us,” gun hee mentions, shifting in the hard chair.





	under the stars (is where i wanna be)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this because i was feeling depressed. please take the tags seriously. there will be nothing graphic, only discussions of suicidal feelings and whatnot. i wanted to make this sad but hopeful at the same time. please leave comments, feedback, kudos, etc as you see fit :) i may leave this as a one shot. remember that you are not alone. this may even be a sign that you should keep trying. love you all

gun hee leans back in the plastic chair, pushing his legs forward to steady himself. he digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. he was trying to quit for his mother but smoking was the only thing that relaxed him.

taking a cigarette from the small box, he takes his lighter out and flicks it, watching the flame for a split second. he lights the cigarette and places it in his mouth, startled when it’s plucked from where it sits snugly between his lips.

gun hee looks up and twists his head, raising an eyebrow at the person who dared to take his cigarette. he stands in the shadow but steps forward, dropping the cigar onto the concrete and crushing it under the heel of his shoe.

when he realises who it is, gun hee squints. it's lee joo heon.

he would be able to recognise that face anywhere; everyone in daegu knew his face, the face of a famous underground rapper.

the rapper looks down at him, a grin working its way onto his lips. for some reason it irritates gun hee, and he glares back in response.

“you shouldn't smoke,” joo heon mutters. gun hee doesn't focus on what he says, only thinks about the way his voice sounds. his syllables are slow and they match his deep tone.

“you're not the judge of that,” he replies back, tugging his black mask back over his mouth, hiding his face under the snapback on his head.

joo heon takes a seat in the plastic chair beside his own. “those things kill you.”

“isn't that the point? for some of us, everything we love kills us,” gun hee mentions, shifting in the hard chair.

there's a scoff from the rapper before he turns and looks straight ahead of them. “what's your name, kid?”

“i’m older than you,” he says in response to the question, feeling offended at the title. “i’m… known as sharp gun. let's go with that.”

there's a small chuckle from the rapper. it's rough and deep, yet still so smooth. “i’m joo heon.”

“yeah, i know,” gun hee murmurs, tipping his head back to stare at the sky. “why are you here?”

there's a snort from joo heon. “there's only one reason people come here; to escape their pitiful existence.”

gun hee laughs. “yeah. okay.”

“that, and, i’m here for some rap battle or something. it's supposed to be held in a few hours so i came to practice early. as you can see, this place is empty. why are you here?”

“to escape my pitiful existence.” gun hee sees joo heon crack a smile. “on a more serious note, i ran away from home, not sure why i told you.”

gun hee plucks out another cigarette from the box in his pocket, and he lights it.

there's a short silence, it stretches out. gun hee doesn't know if he said the right thing but he doesn't care.

“oh, okay. that sucks.” gun hee laughs loudly, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“no shit,” he scoffs, looking at the younger rapper. “were you really here to practice?”

joo heon falters. “not really,” he admits softly, “since we're both being brutally honest, it wouldn't hurt to tell you. i came here to kill myself.”

gun hee sucks in a sharp breath. he didn't expect that, out of every shitty situation. “and you talk about cigars killing me. want one?” he offers the box to joo heon.

“nah, all good. anyway, meeting you here made me think twice. not sure if that's good or bad.”

gun hee reaches out, not knowing why but ruffling the kid’s hair. “you decide that. i might be treating this lightly but it's your choice. you can't stop me killing myself with these bad habits, i can't stop you killing yourself with your own will.”

joo heon smiles. “that's okay. i’m not here to get talked down, i’m here to escape.”

sighing, gun hee takes another long drag. he puffs out, watching the smoke curl into circles. the stars are out and it's a beautiful sight.

“maybe-- maybe just reconsider. it'd be shitty if you died, for me, anyway. we just met and then we don't. when i meet people i always meet them twice.”

he doesn't know why he's trying, just knows he has to. for some reason, it seems necessary.

joo heon pauses. “maybe not tonight. perhaps some other night. there's a reason we met here today, maybe i don't die tonight.”

gun hee feels relief. “yeah,” he rasps, “maybe not tonight.”

“the stars are pretty. i hope when we die we become stars. they are surrounded by darkness and yet they still shine, how strong,” joo heon says dreamily and gun hee crushes the cigarette in his fist, flicking it off into the distance somewhere.

“i think i wanna quit smoking,” gun hee breathes. he realises that joo heon deserves to live. people who talk about the stars like they can touch them are precious.

joo heon stares at him. gun hee blinks. once. twice.

“don't kill yourself. i won't touch a smoke ever again.”

there's a small sigh, it's heavy. “okay. okay, let's do that. i won't promise not to hurt myself, though.”

gun hee turns to him, notices the cuts and scars decorating his inner wrists, tracing the veins. he frowns. joo heon sees him looking and tugs his sleeves down, shrugging at the question in his eyes.

“i didn't tell you to promise me anything,” gun hee says after a long silence, turning back to gaze at the sky. “but we should try anyway. you don't kill yourself and i won't smoke. even if i start smoking again, you still don't kill yourself. yeah?”

joo heon chuckles. “yeah,” he replies, “that's fair. why'd you run away from home?”

gun hee expected it. his fingers itch for a cigarette. “my dad drinks sometimes. he gets a little… violent. i don't know why i ran, normally i’m able to take it. today i was pissed, i ran anyway. i’ll go back in the morning.”

“that's fucked,” joo heon supplies, “that's really fucked.”

gun hee flicks his forehead. “no swearing.”

“okay. don't go home, if you're gonna run away then stick to it.”

“why'd you decide to kill yourself? why do you harm yourself?”

joo heon picks at a scab on his arm. gun hee grabs his wrist, slips his fingers into the other’s with ease. the rapper looks down at the hands, a warm smile finding its way on his lips.

“i don't know. my parents are both dead and my foster mom doesn't care about me. sometimes it's tiring, living is tiring. i tried rapping it away but i can't think of anything worth saying.”

“then write things that are worthless. rap doesn't need substance. rap is rap. if you feel like shit one day then write whatever comes to your mind. nobody hears the words, they hear the way it's said.”

joo heon looks at him with awe, as if he were the stars in the sky tonight. shining in the darkness.

“i won't kill myself. and you're not going home.”

gun hee reaches for his cigarettes. he's a bad chain smoker.

he stops short of the packet, recalling his own words. he moves his hand away.

“i got nowhere left. i wish i was a star. i would always have a place in the sky.”

“i have money,” joo heon suddenly says, “i make a shit load of money when i rap. i forgot to mention that i live alone in one of those high rise apartments. wanna sleep at my place?”

gun hee chokes on his laughter. this whole situation is funny. he doesn't think about his reply, just says it. “okay.”

joo heon looks away. “okay, yes? or okay, no?”

“yes, okay. don't hurt yourself anymore, i won't go home. let's try that.”

“no promise?”

gun hee takes the cigarettes from his pocket, stands up, and dumps them in the trash can. “yeah,” he agrees briefly, “no promise.”

joo heon grins.

gun hee feels like he's said something right.

 

 


End file.
